Schizophren
by RedCyanide
Summary: Sickness rushed up his chest when he thought that all that madness could become the harsh truth...Ivan/Toris


**This hit me while I was listening to the song "Schizophren" by Megaherz. I apologize from any grammar/spelling mistakes that may occur; English is not my first language. Also, I'm not quite accustomed with Lithuanian history, so please correct me if I say something wrong. Wikipedia was my only source. xD**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia - Axis Powers is not mine, and I do not make any profit from writing this story.**

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The air was forced harshly through his chapped, cracked lips; and rolled smoothly upon the cold, massive body holding him pinned against the brick wall; and keeping his own exhausted body from embracing the hard wooden floor beneath his bare feet. His eyes squeezed shut by reflex to block the image of the twisted grin; absolutely misfit for such a childish face. Freezing fingers brushed softly against his trembling jaw.

"Now, Litva," the voice that made shivers shook his entire body tingled so close to his left ear that he jumped quite violently, like he had just noticed now the presence of another man squeezing him slowly against the hard surface. "Why don't you show me your pretty eyes?" More from fear than from stubborness, he kept his eyes tightly shut, until purple and yellow and pink figures started to dance on the back of his eyelids. He was afraid of the sight that would appear if he would open them.

But when the same freezing fingers sank into skin covering his jaws so hard they felt like they were made of stainless steel, pine-green eyes fluttered open; and they were met with purple gleaming pools. And with the madness dancing in them. Nausea rushed up his chest and he swallowed and swallowed lump after lump that blocked his throat to make the sickness go away. And the sick grin broke the childish face of the monster in half. Two big hands cupped each side of his skull; and pressed; until a thought bolted through Toris' mind that his head would be crushed like a nut under the pressure of the rough palms. A reminder that he was at the mercy of the man.

Suddenly, there was nothing pressed against his head, or his body and he fell, tasting blood in his mouth as his already abused head smashed against the merciless surface. A chuckle and a strong smell of alcohol were the only things Toris registered in the next two minutes. When he crawled to his knees, he saw him standing calmly on the sofa, legs crossed; and a bottle of vodka in his hands. He pressed the bottleneck against his broad, _tempting_ lips and almost emptied it in one sip. A disgusted looked crossed Liet's features. Indeed; he thought; the man was a monster.

And like the monster could have read his thoughts, he stood up rather quickly. With a loud crack, the bottle shattered at the contact with Toris' stretched out arms; in order to protect his head; and shards cut into the white flesh, last drops of strong alcohol burning the wounds. He couldn't suppress the high-pitched yell that left his lips, and hated himself for doing that. All the moans, groans, yells were only giving the monster satisfaction. Not mercy, only satisfaction.

"Still think you can escape, little Litva." he said amused. "You and that Polish scum!" his voice became angry now. "Stop struggling. All will become one with me by the end of this." and the manic grin returned. Strong hands gripped the collar of his shirt, and ripped it off, leaving the Lithuanian with the upper half of his thin body bare; and trembling, out of fear and out of cold. Ivan watched with satisfaction the white lines that ran across the slim man's back. He just loved them, the scars made by his hands. The signs of his power on another's nation body.

"You," Toris began with a faint voice. "You won't get everybody." he managed to utter. "Not America. Not Germany." he thought of the two. "Romania tricked you." oddly, the smirk of the man only widened.

"No, I tricked him." there was such a tingling in his voice that Toris had to clench his fist to keep his hand from trembling violently. "Ah, I just can't wait to see his face when he'd realise what he's gotten himself into." he chuckled, at the hair on the Lithuanian's arms stood up. Now he couldn't stop images from playing over and over again in front of his eyes.

Burning cities and smoke and smell of death filling the air and suffocating those lucky(?) enough to escape the vicious attacks.

Cold hands ran down his back now as a warm, soft tongue ran along the wounds made by the shards of the vodka bottle, shards that were now lying onto the floor. Devouring the crimson liquid oozing from deep lines slashed into meat. And when he drew his head back, his lips were stained red and yet again the sensation of nausea buried itself into the pit of the Lithuanian's stomach. People writhing in pain inside dirty and narrow rooms, corpses thrown into a trench and burning together there. People just skin and bones carrying heavy boulders on their backs from one place to another; useless work, made only to exhaust them until they would collapse and die crushed by the weight. People deported into the freezing wasteland that was Siberia.

But the images; and the air going to his lungs; were cut away by a heavy fist implanting himself into his chest. "Didn't you hear me?" the shout abused his ears. "All will become one with me." And now the red stained lips were pressed against his own, the metallic taste darting again into the mouth of the Baltic. Not like he hadn't felt it before. He got accustomed to that. And he'd have to get accustomed to the other things as well, cause when those strong arms wrapped tightly around his waist; so tightly they could break him in half; he realised that all of this madness could become the harsh truth.

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**Ih, I hope it's not that bad xD**

**Some historical facts: during the World War II, Lithuania had been annexed to the Soviet Union, alongside with the other Baltic countries, Latvia and Estonia. First allied with the Axis, Romania, which was also mentioned, turned against them and allied with the Red Army, in order to escape the Soviet occupation. But it practically fell out of the frying pan into the fire.**

**Reviews are welcome!**


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